


Two Pirates, One Ship

by Phate07



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: A wizard did it maybe, Crossover, I've got a thing for when people call each other mate, Killian's ship is manly, M/M, Rum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phate07/pseuds/Phate07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Jones wakes up on an empty Jolly Roger with no idea how or why he got there. Where is there? Tortuga! When he sets off to find some answers, a strange but handsome fellow pirate by the name of <em>Captain</em> Jack Sparrow is all too eager to give him a hand...for a price.</p>
<p>(future smut, maybe more, tagged explicit for future chapters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Pirates, One Ship

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic here on AO3, it's not finished yet, but I really like how it's turned out so far. Any constructive criticism is welcome. It started out as an idea for a PWP smut basically, but I feel like I might want to take it further. Anyone who reads it, let me know if you think maybe I should flesh out the story. My idea was that Killian came there for a reason, and I feel like I wanted it to have something to do with Davy Jones. Maybe he heard a passing tale in the Enchanted Forest/some other world about having the heart of Davy Jones means you can control the seas. It's possible that could transfer to other realms? He has to find a way home too!
> 
> Anywho, I'm not sure why I made Tortuga pretty empty, maybe they're having an off week or something? I just wanted to give Killian the chance to make jokes at Jack for not having a ship, I still haven't figured out the exact timeline for when this is happening.

Captain Killian Jones rolled over and groaned, blinking as the harsh sun glared down at him from where he awoke on the deck of his ship. He couldn’t remember much, had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there, and he appeared to be quite alone. The vessel was eerily quiet, except for the wood creaking and the gentle sound of the sea splashing against its hull. There were other sounds too, if he focused his ears, he could hear people in the distance, coarse types, which could be good or bad.

Killian slowly rose to his feet, the muscles in his body protesting from having slept on the hardwood for who knows how long. He blinked a bit more and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the sweat from his flushed face. He felt well and truly hungover, which would explain just about everything about his predicament, but he still wasn’t sure that was what actually had happened.

As he looked out he saw he was at port, but none he'd ever remembered visiting before. It seemed like a sort of hidden place, a smuggler's cove perhaps. He was also conveniently already docked there, but there were no people bustling about. He could see a few in the distance, skulking about the streets that wound through rows and rows of ramshackle buildings. The place felt distinctly...criminal.

_Well, that suits me just fine_ , he thought, as he checked his person for weapons and coin, both of which he'd need if he were to get answers in this sort of place. Blessedly, all his effects were in order and nothing was missing, so whatever had happened that he didn't remember, it was unlikely to be a robbery.

With a great huff of a sigh, the Captain disembarked his ship and strode towards the center of the town, intent on finding some sort of tavern. He needed a drink, badly, and some answers.

It was a filthy place, dotted with toothless old folk, drunkards, whores, and men who would likely gut you if you looked at them wrong. Killian unconsciously gripped the handle of his sword while trying to look as though he belonged in this strange place. It was a great comfort to see that the clothing everyone wore was of a similar style to his own, though most not near as finely made, or as clean. This didn't go unnoticed by the inhabitants, who looked at him with a great mixture of curiosity, greed, disdain, and some even lust. More than a few whores tried to catch his eye knowing he probably had a fair share of wealth to trade, but he had no interest in them. They all left his side quite quickly, sour faced and disappointed at being unable to bed the handsome stranger.

Finally he'd found a tavern, it was just one of those places that had the look about it. It exuded desperation and smelled of alcohol, and that was just about all Killian needed to let him know this was it. He quickly slipped inside and into the grime, almost feeling like he was at home... _almost._

Most of the patrons didn't even look up at his entrance, and those who did barely glanced his way before returning to whatever occupied them, food and drink, cards or dice, a pretty wench or even a lad. Only a few were seated along the the bar that Killian made a beeline for.

Killian slid smoothly into a stool and tapped his hook on the counter while giving the bartender his most dashing smile.

"A drink please, good Sir. Your best ale." He said, trying to sound courteous but not too nice. There was a fine line one had to tread in places like this.

The man behind the counter just grunted and picked up a glass mug that seemed to embody all the grime of the place in physical form. Killian tried to stop his lip from curling with distaste, luckily the man was too busy filling the glass from a wooden cask to notice. He plopped it down in front of Killian and waited for payment, his eyes dull and lids droopy as he stared.

Killian fingered his money pouch and froze briefly. He hadn't thought about money. If this place was in another world, would they accept his coin? He didn't even know the price. He pulled out a small silver coin and slid it across.

"Will this cover it?" He asked, his tongue darting out to moisten lips that had gone dry with nervousness. The other man stared at the coin in the dim light and bit it between his teeth, then shrugged and turned away. Killian had likely overpaid, but it wasn't worth making a fuss over unless the drink was atrocious.

Killian took a swallow and privately admitted that it wasn't half bad. He started to relax a little and opened his senses as he slowly drank the ale, listening to the quiet talk around him. He noted the accents, the snippets of conversation he could gather here and there. Nothing much seemed to really leap out at him, it was all both familiar and unfamiliar.

"The King's Royal Navy.." Well, Killian had been in _a_ royal navy, but he had a feeling they weren't speaking of the same one.

"Davy Jones..." Now that name tickled his brain and he couldn't figure out why. No matter, he was sure that it would come to him soon, if it were important.

"The East India Trading Company..." Killian shrugged and took another swallow of ale.

His thoughts were starting to travel elsewhere, the voices around him dulling as he thought about that name again, _Davy Jones_. It vexed him so, that it pricked at his brain, and he couldn’t figure out why.

" 'Ello mate, don't think I've seen you around here before. I could never forget a face like that..." A voice somewhere behind and to his side purred into his ear, a bit gravelly but somehow also silken. Killian was startled out of his reverie, and turned slowly in his stool.

"Well you happen to be right. About the face part. No one forgets my face." Killian threw back, cocking his head to the side and grinning widely at the man who had addressed him.

He was an interesting looking fellow, though his clothes seemed to be standard sailor's garb, salt-worn but well cared for. He had long brown hair, some of it done into braids with many shiny trinkets and beads woven into them. A wide red piece of cloth peeked out under a sort of hat, leather and very travel worn, but it had corners in three places, the likes of which Killian wasn’t sure if he had seen before. He hadn't paid it any mind previously, but the hat style was incredibly common on the men in this particular port.

Killian could tell under the grime that his skin was tanned from long hours in the sun, one of the many marks of a sailor. The man also had some interesting facial hair. Though the mustache was nice enough, if unremarkable, the chin hair he sported was a little baffling, as it hung down in two braids that bore tiny beads similar to his hair.

To top it all off, the man wore a devious smirk on his finely boned face, his eyes glittering with delight behind the darkly lined lids.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of speaking to?" The stranger asked as he leaned against the bar counter, his gaze never leaving Killian's face. He oozed confidence and a sort of predatory air. Not like the kind of brutish animal who postured and used strength, but something akin to a large wild cat or a deadly bird. Killian suppressed a shiver and trained his face to stay calm.

"Captain Killian Jones. And you, are you also a captain, or just a simple sailor?" He asked, hoping he sounded friendly enough.

The other man's face tightened visibly the moment Killian had said 'Captain' and his lips twitched when Killian had asked if he were were one.

"You're not from around here, are you mate?" The stranger asked, the pitch of his voice dropping a little as he squinted his eyes and gave Killian a quick once over.

Killian fidgeted in his seat for a brief moment before drawing himself together and shaking his head to confirm the man's question. It could be dangerous to be a stranger in a place like this. He was definitely not going to tell the man he had no idea how he got here.

"Then, you have the pleasure of speaking to _Captain_ Jack Sparrow!" Jack finally said, quite jovially, as he reached out his hand to shake Killian's own. The grin had returned to Jack's face but Killian felt a bit less amiable to the devilish charm.

Killian had reached out with his hand...ah, his hook. He shrugged and laughed while shaking about the metal appendage as if the hook had a mind of its own and were playing a joke on them both. He quickly reached out with his actual only hand and exchanged a firm handshake with Jack, though he noticed the man was too busy staring at his hook to put much thought into the shake.

Killian withdrew his hand and longed to wipe it on his coat, it felt hot and sweaty. Was he truly nervous? He supposed he had fair reason to be. This Jack was no idiot, his eyes were sharp and he seemed to be of incredibly sound mind, despite his odd behavior. Maybe he could help, with the right persuasion.

"Don't tell me that my name doesn't send a shiver down your spine?" Jack asked in that low silken voice of his that truly did make Killian shiver.

"I'm afraid to say I've never heard it before." Killian admitted, offering a small apologetic smile.

"Truly terrible that you've been denied the pleasure, love. A dear friend once told me I was the _worst_ pirate he'd ever heard of. But! He HAD heard of me!" Jack replied, one bejeweled finger stroking his mustache and slowly moving down to curl into his beaded beard as he spoke.

"Sorry mate. As you suspected I'm...not from here." Killian replied, shrugging apologetically. He wanted desperately to know more about this place, and who this Davy Jones was, but rushing for information was a bad way to go.

"You seem like a very astute man, and I require information. I am unable to ask any random person...but I can pay handsomely, if you wish." Killian eventually spoke, after an uncomfortable silence where Jack just stared at him and twirled his beard.

"I take it that this conversation is best held in private?" Jack replied, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. As if the cat had found its canary to eat.

Killian nodded in the affirmative while directing his glance towards the door of the tavern. The only place he could trust was his own ship, even though he was a little uncomfortable letting another captain set foot on his beloved vessel. Killian slid off the stool and righted himself, pulling his coat about and running a hand through his hair. It was nearly impossible for him to resist even a slight bit of preening when around other people.

He left the tavern but didn't look to see if Jack was following him until he was well away from the building. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the other man was trailing behind, his gait rather jaunty and almost drunken like, though he never stumbled. He almost seemed to delicately pick his way through the street, dancing out of the grasping hands of a beggar trying to grab at him. Killian caught a funny expression on Jack's face that made him want to bark a laugh, but he merely smirked instead.

Killian eventually reached the dock where The Jolly Roger was tied to, but he was forced to wait for Jack to catch up. While he waited he stared around, getting a better look at his surroundings now that his head was more clear. At present, his ship was the only one at port. He couldn't decide if it was strange that _Captain_ Jack was ship-less. Finally Jack was close enough and he stopped in front of Killian and peered around him to look at his ship.

"This is quite a fine vessel indeed, mate. Not quite as good as my ship, mind, but I'm not one to insult another man's pride. What's her name?" Jack asked as he sauntered closer and continued to inspect.

Killian stared at the man's for a moment, his gaze sliding down for a quick glance at his shapely backside before coughing to clear his throat. He had never really thought of a ship as being a He or a She, but it made sense that someone who owned one might assign certain qualities to it. Sometimes the vessels seemed to be an entity all their own, though he supposed his own ship was more the...manly type.

"This here is The Jolly Roger, and HE is my one true joy in life." Killian replied simply while he walked to catch up to Jack, watching him closely to make sure he didn't muck anything up.

This Captain Jones was definitely from a strange land indeed. He had an almost undefinable air about him, almost magical. Jack was no stranger to supernatural occurrences, which made him glad that Killian had decided to confide in him, and not any other random fool on the island. Oh, a lot of people knew stories about supernatural happenings, but that’s all they were to them, stories. Jack had experienced them first hand, and was a prime candidate for advice, if that’s what this all turned out to be. He had a mind to get a lot more out of the deal, though.

Without invitation, Jack strolled up the gangplank and onto the ship. He walked along, sliding his hand over the smooth wooden rails.

"Have you got any rum? Everything's better with rum, and I have a powerful thirst." Jack called out, confident that Killian had followed him even though he had never looked back to check.

"Of course I have rum. What kind of pirate doesn't?" Killian replied loudly with a huff of displeasure. He hadn't expected to be sharing his private stash of alcohol, but it was all he had and he wasn't ready to refuse Jack before getting his answers. He removed the flask from his belt and took a great swallow of the burning liquid for himself before replacing the cap and tossing it to Jack once he had turned around.

Jack caught the metal container and took a long drink of the spirits, letting it flow slowly over his tongue so he could taste the quality. It was delicious, it burned and sent a flush to his face and chest.

"I daresay that is some of the finest rum I've ever tasted." Jack said truthfully, smirking as the drink's warmth continued to fill him.

Killian was so out of sorts he felt the need to have another taste of the rum, or even down the whole flask. He strolled over and gently pried the container out of Jack’s hands just as it was on his lips and he was about to take another swallow. Jack merely stared, watching the other man throw back the whole thing in one go.

“I have never had any finer, in all my travels, and I have been to many strange and wondrous lands. But none I have found can compare to that of my home.” Killian finally replied after having drained the flask, feeling much better after. There was absolute truth to the adage ‘liquid courage’. 

“Tell me, Captain Sparrow, what place is this? I have been sailing the seas for longer than I care to admit, but I have never made port here. I would surely recall if I had. You are not a lackwit, but I cannot even begin to impress upon you the importance that this matter of my displacement remain secret for now.” Killian said, trying to keep his tone steady, but his nervousness was creeping up on him, and he said the last part in a sort of rushed whisper. He inhaled deeply and exhaled with a sigh while rubbing his hand over his blazing face.

Jack had watched him carefully through the declaration before slowly stepping his way closer to the man but still letting him maintain his personal area of comfort. He squinted and stare at Killian’s face, looking him over again this way and that, then at his face again, then at his ship.

“You truly have no idea where you are, and I suspect neither how you arrived here. Your lack of crew is telling enough, mate. Well, welcome to Tortuga. Despite piracy being officially abolished here, you can tell the er, proclamation did not quite take with the locals. So, it remains a moderately safe haven for all manner of unsavory types, savvy?” Jack explained while absentmindedly twirling a finger through his hair and pulling a humorous face when it tangled and tugged at his scalp. 

Killian screwed up his face while he wracked his brain for any memory of the island’s name. He could find nothing, and that frustrated him. Then he remembered that name floating in his consciousness, _Davy Jones_. He couldn’t shake the feeling that that was why he was here. 

“Davy Jones. Who is that? You must tell me.” Killian demanded under his breath as he gave Jack a hard stare. 

Jack did not reply, but his face hardened so that Killian felt a bit afraid of that look.

“If you are not from here, where did you get that name? No, wait! I’ve changed my mind! Good day!” Jack sang out loud, all in just two breaths. He had already started to turn around halfway through, definitely ready to leave the ship and not have anything to do with the man. 

Killian growled and leaped forward to grab Jack’s arm, holding him tightly. He needed answers, and Jack definitely had something. Jack grunted at the pressure on his arm that was stalling his departure. The man was strong despite his somewhat lithe build, or perhaps that was just the desperation peeking through.

“You know this name. Do not lie. That is the only thing I have connecting me to any explanation as to why I am here and you WILL tell me!” Killian snarled, his grip tightening painfully. 

Jack turned as best he could while shoving off Killian’s hand with his own and rubbing at the spot that would surely be a bruise tomorrow. He leaned against the rail of the ship and squinted at the handsome stranger.

“Yes, I know that name. But I’m not sure why I should tell you anything about him. What’s in it for me, love? Do not say coin, I have no interest. Perhaps though, more of that delightful rum would be enough to buy my favor. But, no, I’m thinking of something better. Sweeter. More... _fiery_.” Jack purred, his lips gaping into a wide smile, golden teeth glinting in the sunlight.

Killian was caught speechless for a few moments. All he could do was stare at Jack’s face as he fought the rising heat within his body. Surely he couldn’t mean...not that it was unheard of...not that he would be opposed to it...but they had only just met. Well, why should that matter? It didn’t, not really. He was more annoyed by the fact that Jack was holding the information he needed at a ransom. The ransom being a heavily suggested at intimate encounter.

“Are you...propositioning me? For…” Killian managed to force out, but couldn’t finish the rest. It was just too hot out and the rum was burning in his stomach. He leaned against the rail, trying not to let his uncertainty show. 

“I want to fuck you, mate.” Jack affirmed, quite succinctly. Most of the time he liked to elevate his speech to an almost flowery level, but sometimes bluntness was preferable, for added effect. Between a man and a woman, the phrase almost always had the same implication, but between two men the terms were less clear. Jack personally had no strong feelings towards being on either the giving or receiving end of said act, so he supposed he would let the course of action remain as organic as possible, if Killian was agreeable.

Killian’s chest tightened and his groin flared with heat at the words that confirmed what he had been thinking. He was going to say yes, oh indeed. I didn’t even matter than he would make sure he got the information he wanted afterwards, whether Jack wanted to make good on the promise or not. Jack was attractive and sly and magnetic and Killian was ready to admit that he wanted a taste. No, he wanted a bite of that man.

There was no need to say anymore, to shower each other with compliments and lovely words. Those things were nice enough when the time was right, but Killian wanted something raw and _nasty_. He stepped closer, hesitant until he got close enough to latch his hook underneath the waist of Jack’s breeches and use the metal to pull him nearly flush to Killian’s own body. Jack grinned as he looked up at the other man’s reddened face and glinting eyes.

_“I knew you’d come around.”_ Jack said in a husky whisper just before capturing Killian's mouth with his own. Right away he bit and sucked at his lower lip, tasting the rum, saliva and sweat all mixed together. 

Killian’s breath hitched as he reluctantly pulled away, his lower lip throbbing, swollen and red from the kissing.

“Why don’t we take this to my cabin? We’re not as like to be interrupted, but still…” He murmured, even as Jack’s hands were trying to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. Killian growled and pulled the other man towards the cabin, almost shoving him in and loudly slamming the door behind them.


End file.
